


Strike makes a speech

by FallingFaintly



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: F/M, Wedding Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:33:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28982673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallingFaintly/pseuds/FallingFaintly
Summary: Rereading Lethal White, I was interested in Strike's opinions about the speeches he listened to. I'm not actually convinced that marriage is on the cards for them, but if it was, I think it would be one like this, and I thought if Strike thought her dad should have mentioned her achievements, then it was plausible Strike would have a go himself given the opportunity. Plus I need cheering up, so fluff it is.
Relationships: Robin Ellacott/Cormoran Strike
Comments: 7
Kudos: 59





	Strike makes a speech

**Author's Note:**

> Rereading Lethal White, I was interested in Strike's opinions about the speeches he listened to. I'm not actually convinced that marriage is on the cards for them, but if it was, I think it would be one like this, and I thought if Strike thought her dad should have mentioned her achievements, then it was plausible Strike would have a go himself given the opportunity. Plus I need cheering up, so fluff it is.

The two of them had stood on the steps of Mayfair Library, beneath the ornate white portico, and Strike wondered if he should have felt more ridiculous as the small group of friends and family around them threw crumpled handfuls of confetti. He was too happy to repress his grin, and he’d concluded that was as it should be. Robin had never looked more beautiful, he’d thought, and he remembered how he’d heard new husbands say that about their brides before and viewed it with some skepticism.

Her arm had been interlinked with his, and she was radiant, the slight sheen on the teal fabric of the halterneck dress she wore adding to the sensation that she was glowing. The dress hugged every curve, and her red gold hair tumbled artfully round her shoulders. Robin. His partner. His wife. Their friends and relations had called out to them as each held up mobiles to catch the customary pictures, but Strike needed no digital assistance to remember that moment. It would be seared into his soul until he died.

They had gathered at the pub, of course. Both he and Robin had agreed that they had no desire for the pomp of a traditional wedding, and that this decision to mark their commitment to each other should be simply another step in a journey they had already begun and would continue on, rather than an expensive destination itself.

Despite that, pint in one hand, the other slipped contentedly round Robin’s waist, Strike was suddenly overtaken by the need to make something akin to a speech. It was enough that he had stood in front of her and those he cared about and married her, of course, but he remembered another wedding day when he had thought about all the things that should be said about Robin and weren’t, and this was a good moment to restore balance to the world.

“Right,” he said, raising his voice, and the assembled guests dialled down their happy chatter, and turned to listen. He didn’t let go of Robin, or his pint.

“I’m not one for speeches, but I did want to say something. First of all, thanks to you all for coming. It means a lot to both of us,” he said.

He paused and looked down at his shoes, and then into Robin’s upturned face. Her eyes were curious; she hadn’t known he was going to say anything, but she didn’t seem worried by the idea. He took a breath.

“I never thought I’d meet anyone I’d _really_ want to marry. It seemed more trouble than it was worth,” he said ruefully, and a ripple of good-natured snickering came from the guests.

“But you don’t plan to meet someone like Robin. Robin is the kind of woman I wouldn’t have had the wit to invent, but once she was in my life, I couldn’t ignore that she was made to be my partner. In every possible sense. She is the bravest, most intelligent, most beautiful, kindest, and _tidiest_ woman I have ever known, and I owe her everything, including the business we have built together. She deserves everything she has, she has earned it. Unfortunately for her, that also includes me,” he concluded, and raised his pint to the sound of laughter.

“To Robin Ellacott!”

“To Robin!” The toast was echoed. Robin laughed and raised her wine glass in response.

“To Strike making speeches!” She added, with a grin.

“To Strike!”

As the hum of chatter increased, Robin put her glass down on the bar and stood in front of Strike, slipping her hands round his waist and interlacing her fingers at the small of his back.

“Tidiest?” She said, her eyebrow cocked. A smile played round his lips as he considered concealing that due to speaking on the spur of the moment, his list of her virtues and qualities had been less considered than they might have been with more forethought. Instead, a two second beat later, they both laughed and he didn’t feel the need.

“Sorry,” he chuckled. “You _are_ very tidy.”

“It’s true,” she replied with an air of faux consideration. “I think all of those things you said about me were true.”

“What, even that you deserve _me_?” He asked, mentally kicking himself that he hadn’t actually sat down and planned something to say. Robin, as ever, managed to right his missteps.

“I think we deserve each other,” she said boldly.

“Given all the things I just said about you, deserving you is high praise indeed,” he replied, and her warm smile assured him he’d not actually mucked anything up after all.

“Well, you’ll just have to show me exactly what I’ve earned when we get home, then, won’t you?” She replied tartly, the suggestive glint her eye earning her Strike’s mouth twisting up into a lopsided grin, and a kiss with the promise of the wedding night to come. 


End file.
